"Just One Look" was a hit single co-written and sung by
American
R&B singer
Doris Troy in 1963. The song peaked at #10 in the U.S. singles
charts.

Details vary as to how the single came to be released on
Atlantic Records. According to the book Billboard Book of One-Hit
Wonders[2],
James Brown saw Troy performing in a nightclub (under her then-stage
name Doris Payne), and introduced her to Atlantic.[1]
According to a more recent and detailed story in Soulful Divas[3],
Payne recorded a studio demo of the song and took it to
Sue Records first, but their lack of response led her to offer it to
Jerry Wexler at Atlantic, where the label released the demo
unchanged.[1]

The single's release was the first time she started using "Doris
Troy" as her stage name, though her
pen
name remained Doris Payne.[1]

"Just One Look" became a UK hit via a version by
the Hollies which reached #2 in the spring of 1964. Although not a
major US hit in its original release, the Hollies' "Just One Look"
marked the first appearance of the Hollies on the
Billboard Hot 100 at #98 and a US re-issue in 1967 saw the
Hollies' "Just One Look" rise as high as #44. The
Beatle
tribute band, "The
Buggs", also recorded an obscure version (retitled "Soho
Mash") on their 1964 Coronet album, "The Beetle Beat".

Anne Murray remade "Just One Look" for her 1974 Love Song
album and the track was issued as a single that October to become a
minor Billboard Hot 100 entry at #86.
Linda Ronstadt remade "Just One Look" for her 1978
Living in the USA album; issued as the album's third single in
February 1979, the track just fell short of the
Top 40
with a #44 peak.

(Editor’s Note: This is the first of a series recounting
the heavy price paid by families as a result of Fidel Castro’s
successful revolution on the Caribbean island of Cuba. Today, Jan.
8, 2012, is the 53rd anniversary of Castro and his revolutionaries
entering Havana in victory.)

By Nick Diaz

JANUARY 1, 1959. On this date, at 2 A.M., Cuban Dictator
Fulgencio Batista boarded a plane that took him, his family, and
close associates from his palace in Havana, to Santo Domingo,
Dominican Republic.

Former Cuban Dictator Fulgencio Batista.

This left the door open for
Guerilla leader Fidel Castro to take over power a week later in the
island nation where I was born and raised. I had just turned 11. I
remember it well.

Two years later, my mother, Idania Diaz, and I arrived on these
shores, a couple of $100 bills and some of her jewelry stashed in
our clothing. How could I forget?

This time of year arouses sad memories. Imagine leaving your
native land for foreign shores, different customs, language, and
heritage. We Cubans did just that; we survived and eventually
prevailed.

I am proud to be a Cuban, just as I am proud to be an American.

Often I am asked whether I consider myself Cuban-American, Cuban,
or American. Do I consider myself a refugee, even after 51 years of
residence and citizenship in the U.S. of A.?

It took years for me to realize why these
questions bothered me. It is the false assumption that one’s
identity can be neatly packaged, with one being either this or that.
This compares to asking whether one’s tongue is for speaking or for
tasting.

I realize that most natural-born Americans have spent their lives
in a single culture. It must be hard to imagine how it feels to be
an immigrant. We found out it is difficult to absorb cultures other
than the one a person is born into.

BEING AN IMMIGRANT in the United States is not
“either/or,” but a “both/and” proposition. My feeling is that no one
ceases to be part of the culture from which they come, save for
infants who are adopted and taken to another country. Immigrants add
layers to their identity, other “selves.” Depending on age,
personality, and circumstances, these layers or “selves” assume
different configurations in each individual.

Author Nick Diaz (F.C.C. photo)

I try to deal with this complexity each day,
considering one’s identity is fluid in exile and that there are
times when the different “selves” converge or collide. Immigrants
know first-hand that the “I” or “me” is not simple or uniform; it
is, rather, a riotous mess.

So, I admit to having a complex identity.

Of course, I am an American. Of course, I am Cuban. Of course,
I’m Cuban-American. I am also Spanish and European. My maternal
grandmother and her family were immigrants from Spain. She–my
parents and other relatives– always reminded me that I was not
really Cuban, but a displaced European with various identities.

They explained that my grandmother’s folks were Catalan. My
father’s side is indescribable. I surmise that because their Cuban
roots date to the 17th century they may have been Jewish conversos,
or perhaps Gallegos, or Basques, who knows.

This may partly explain my keen interest in
European history and culture. The fact that I married the daughter
of a Swedish immigrant takes me to Europe, which oddly feels like
home, while at the same time, like double exile. Who knows whether a
couple evil Norsemen, in search of pillage and plunder, may have
settled in Iberia in the 10th century? Maybe I have Viking blood in
me, as well.

I am still a refugee and will continue to be one until “Castrolandia”
ceases to exist. My parents and I came to the United States to
escape a nightmarish existence. As long as my place of birth remains
enslaved by an oppressive totalitarian regime and the nightmare
continues, I will not return; therefore I will remain a refugee.

Island of Cuba, 179 miles from Little Havana, Miami, Fla.
(Rand-McNally New Millennium)

I AM REMINDED
of my “refugee” status especially when asked about difficulties I
encountered upon arrival. Getting rid of my accent was one
challenge. It is more pronounced when I’m tired and/or have had
enough to drink. It is repressed, nevertheless it remains. On the
other hand, I take pride when American-born acquaintances
exhibit surprise when they learn I’m Cuban born and reared.

We exiles also face ignorance about my homeland, including
outrageous stereotypes about Cuba, pre- and post-Castro.

I object when Cubans are viewed as products of an inferior
culture. I encountered this in my school textbooks, which were
filled with incorrect and biased information and form the basis for
misinformation drummed into young minds.

Many Americans harbor prejudice because of limited and
misinformed exposure to the complex Hispanic world. There appears to
be a lack of awareness that an artificial category–’Hispanic”–has
been created and is a gross distortion of reality.

Those who should know better often interpret the term “Hispanic”
as a race, indicating that all “Hispanics” are more or less the
same. There are 18 Spanish-speaking countries in Latin America, each
with its own ethnic mixture and culture. There also is one European
country with Spanish is the official language, but in which other
languages are also spoken.

My anger and disappointment rage when I see a document or news
item indicating that “Hispanic” is a “race.” It is a reminder of a
high school friend’s mother, who expressed her prejudice when she
met me.

“Oh, but you look just like all the other boys,” she said,
exhibiting a sigh of relief.

That is just one especially poignant incident. I’ve lost count of
the times I’ve been told that I don’t look like a Cuban. I’ve
encountered similar comments from Northern Europeans as well.

(Nick Diaz was born and reared in
Havana, Cuba. He is a mathematics teacher at St. John Regional
Catholic School in Frederick, Md. A graduate of the University of
Dayton (Ohio), Mr. Diaz was retired in 2003 after 30 years with
Frederick County (Md.) Public Schools. He is a member of the Board
of Trustees of Frederick Community College, for which he served as
chairman in 2011. He and his wife Marianne reside near Middletown,
Md.)

WOWZERS! Thank you so much, Harry -
and Nick!

From Dave Spriggs ('64) of VA - 01/07/12,
6:29 PM - "Anchor Help":

I am looking for a photo of Arnette
Stinson, who worked in the NNHS library before
1961. Do not know if she was a NNHS alum.

Perhaps her photo appears in the
Faculty/Staff section of a pre-1961 Anchor.

Thanks

Dave

Certainly,
David! I remember Miss Stinson
very well. Her portrait
appears on page 31 of the 1961 Anchor. She has a B.S. from
Madison College, and in addition to to being an assistant librarian,
also taught English. I recorded in that yearbook her marriage on
Saturday, September 10, 1966 to George Thomas King, Jr. in
Montrose Baptist Church in Richmond - which might strongly imply that
she's a Richmond gal herself.

...We have forgotten the
practice of using aprons, haven't we? It is amazing how much we forget,
put aside in the closets of time, and wait for future generations to
revive after we mess everything up... I don't envision women running out
to buy or make aprons though, do you? For that matter, I doubt if most
men would urge their wives to use an apron. Society knows best, and they
forget all the rest!

...I remember Grandma's
apron, and I remember, and will always remember Grandma; she was, and is
the symbol of love in our family. Too bad it isn't so in the world of
today.

Homemade pies are so much
more memorable because the anticipation was enhanced by the delicious
smell emanating from the cooling pie, and you knew that you were loved
when Grandma went out of her way to bake your favorite pie. Grandma used
the best ingredients, and never lied about those ingredients in order to
make a couple extra dollars, and above all, we did not wonder if the
pies were safe for us to eat. We didn't even think of that, because we
knew that Grandma wouldn't think of taking a short cut which might
endanger our lives simply to make a cheaper pie. Progress? What is
progress when compared to love, and what is love when compared to
"choosing the right?" Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Love it!!

(Notice
that a
"Medium" is
a size 14 -
16)

Remember
making
an
apron
in
Home
Ec?
Read
below:

The
History of 'APRONS'

I don't
think our kids know
what an apron is.
The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the
dress underneath because she only had a few.
It was also because it was easier to wash aprons than
dresses and aprons used less material.
But along with that, it served as a potholder
for removing hot pans from the oven. It was
wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion
was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From
the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs,
fussy chicks, and sometimes
half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.

When
company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for
shy kids.

And
when the weather was cold Grandma wrapped it around her
arms.

Those
big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow,
Bent over the hot wood stove.

Chips
and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that
apron.

From the
garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After
the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls.

In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that
had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was
surprising how much furniture
that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.

When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the
porch, waved her apron,
and the men folk knew it was time to come in from the
fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents
something that will replace that 'old-time apron' that
served so many purposes.

Send this to
those who would know (and love) the story about
Grandma's aprons.

REMEMBER:

Grandma used to set
her hot baked apple
pies on the window
sill to cool.
Her granddaughters
set theirs on the
window sill to thaw.They
would go crazy now
trying to figure out
how many germs were
on that apron.

I
don't think I ever
caught anything from
an apron - but
love...

Thanks
for the memories, Dools!

From Joan Dinwiddie Smith ('63) of VA -

01/08/12 - "Old Newport News":

Have you
seen this you tube of Newport News?

Be sure to look at
some of the other slides after looking at the
Newport News one. Many of Buckroe Beach, etc.

Thanks, Joan!I get a big kick
out of this video every time I see it!Many of those pictures
I scanned myself - and at least six of the images were captured by our
own Wizard of Wonderment, Dave Spriggs ('64) of VA,
specifically for use on Our Old Stomping Grounds!
There's even a shot I myself took back in 1963 while I was still in high
school!

The video was created
by
Bill Sasser (Hampton HS - '61) of VA. We've had it linked to Our Old
Stomping Grounds for some time now:

"Just to establish some parameters," said
the professor, "Mr. Nichols, what is the opposite of joy?"

"Sadness," said the student.

"And the opposite of depression, Ms. Biggs?"

"Elation."

"And you, sir, how about the opposite of woe?"

"I believe that would be giddy up..."

DATES TO REMEMBER:

1.Thursday, February 2, 2012 - The NNHS Class of 1955 holds Lunch Bunch
gatherings on the first Thursday of every month at Steve & John's Steak House on
Jefferson Avenue just above Denbigh Boulevard in Newport News at 11:00 AM. The
luncheon is not limited to just the Class of '55; if you have friends in that
year, go visit with them.

2. Wednesday, February 8, 2012 - The NNHS Class of June 1942 meets at noon on
the second Wednesday of every other month for a Dutch treat lunch at the James
River Country Club, 1500 Country Club Road. PLEASE JOIN THEM. Give or take a few
years makes no difference. Good conversation, food and atmosphere. For details,
call Jennings Bryan at 803-7701 for reservations.

3.
Saturday, April 7, 2012 - 11:00 AM - The NNHS Breakfast Bunch will host a
Breakfast Bunch Brunch at the Warwick Restaurant, 12306 Warwick Boulevard,
(across from CNU) Newport News, Virginia 23606. "Please come join them for a
Dutch Treat Brunch featuring a lot of 'War Stories' and maybe a lie or
two. Everyone is welcome so bring your wife, husband, boy friend, girl friend,
class mate, school friend or whomever you choose." Please RSVP to Bill Roady at
duckbill1@verizon.net or call him at
757-595-0716 so they have a head count.

4. Friday and Saturday, October 5 and 6, 2012 - Class of 1962 - 50-Year Reunion
- Crowne Plaza Hotel, Hampton on the Water. More information after the
Holidays. Meetings are second Tuesday of each month. CONTACT: Brenda Amos
Williams at typhoonmom@juno.com

Just one look and I fell so
hard
In love with you, oh-oh, oh-oh
I found out how good it feels
To have your love, oh-oh, oh-oh
Say you will, will be mine
Forever and always, oh-oh, oh-oh
Just one look and I knew
That you were my only one
Oh oh-oh oh!

I thought I was dreamin' but I was wrong, yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh, but-a, I'm gonna keep on schemin'
Till I can a-make you, make you my own!

So you see, I really care
Without you I'm nothin', oh-oh, oh-oh
Just one look and I know
I'll get you someday, oh-oh, oh-oh

Just one look, that's all it took
Just one look, that's all it took
Just one look, that's all it took